Dusten
He’s back.
I don’t know why he leaves or why he comes back. When we’re together he’s always uncomfortable.
Dusten once told me he feels like a glass of water that has a bunch of junk in it, but it’s all settled down at the bottom, forgotten. Then when he gets around me he feels like his glass has been all stirred up so that all that junk is swirling up at the top where it used to be peaceful.
Dusten is a clear example of someone who wants to be stirred. Even though he says he hates it when I dig into his issues, he wouldn’t come back if that were true. In fact, I rarely have to dig. He offers.
It would be easy for anyone to figure out that Dusten’s root sin is pride. He fits the classic definition: arrogant, selfish, and always right.
The thing that baffles me, though, is following him through his front door after work and seeing his kids go absolutely crazy over him. They adore him, and they can’t get into his arms fast enough.
I don’t think it’s just his own capacity for being childlike and fun that the kids love. Everyday Dusten comes to work with his son’s most prized and special toy. His son won’t let him leave home without it, whatever his favorite toy is that day. He wants his dad to have the one thing that is most special to him. It’s almost like the son feels protective over him or feels like he should take care of him.
Clearly Dusten has the capacity to love deeply. Other prideful people I know use this ability to recruit others into their own fan club. But Dusten reserves it strictly for his family, and I find that so curious.
I think the only reason we became friends is because I was the first co-worker to ignore his ego and pursue a healthy working relationship with him.
We’ll probably be talking about Dusten a lot for a while, since he’s back. I can tell he’s got something on his mind because he lingers longer than he should.
I don’t know why he leaves or why he comes back. When we’re together he’s always uncomfortable.
Dusten once told me he feels like a glass of water that has a bunch of junk in it, but it’s all settled down at the bottom, forgotten. Then when he gets around me he feels like his glass has been all stirred up so that all that junk is swirling up at the top where it used to be peaceful.
Dusten is a clear example of someone who wants to be stirred. Even though he says he hates it when I dig into his issues, he wouldn’t come back if that were true. In fact, I rarely have to dig. He offers.
It would be easy for anyone to figure out that Dusten’s root sin is pride. He fits the classic definition: arrogant, selfish, and always right.
The thing that baffles me, though, is following him through his front door after work and seeing his kids go absolutely crazy over him. They adore him, and they can’t get into his arms fast enough.
I don’t think it’s just his own capacity for being childlike and fun that the kids love. Everyday Dusten comes to work with his son’s most prized and special toy. His son won’t let him leave home without it, whatever his favorite toy is that day. He wants his dad to have the one thing that is most special to him. It’s almost like the son feels protective over him or feels like he should take care of him.
Clearly Dusten has the capacity to love deeply. Other prideful people I know use this ability to recruit others into their own fan club. But Dusten reserves it strictly for his family, and I find that so curious.
I think the only reason we became friends is because I was the first co-worker to ignore his ego and pursue a healthy working relationship with him.
We’ll probably be talking about Dusten a lot for a while, since he’s back. I can tell he’s got something on his mind because he lingers longer than he should.
posted by Amy at
2:04 AM
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